


History of Us

by gamerfic



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Biotic Sex, F/M, Mass Effect 3: Citadel, Missing Scene, One Night Stands, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:08:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26277667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gamerfic/pseuds/gamerfic
Summary: As Shepard's party on the Citadel winds down, Javik and Shepard decide to stay up late.
Relationships: Javik/Female Shepard (Mass Effect)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25
Collections: Press Start VI





	History of Us

**Author's Note:**

  * For [inquisitor_tohru](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inquisitor_tohru/gifts).



The silence of Commander Shepard's apartment is far more deafening than the noise of her now-concluded party ever was. From the couch, Javik hears the crackling fire in the fireplace behind him, the hum of the appliances in the kitchen, the faint snores of the other party guests who have collapsed into unconsciousness in odd corners of various rooms, and the low rumble of his own pulse in his ears. Since his awakening, he has grown so accustomed to chaos that the quiet now seems unnatural. 

Like all the others, he consumed more than his share of intoxicating beverages tonight, enjoying the way they softened the world around him and blunted his sharpest worries. (He was lying when he told the man at the casino it was poison to his kind. Most of what he tells primitives is a lie.) But his metabolism is more efficient than the others'. He can already feel the drinks' effects ebbing from his system, leaving behind irritability and the beginnings of a pounding headache. Is this really what he survived for, the reason he voyaged across 50,000 years? To sit alone after a party wondering if he will ever achieve the vengeance he is owed - or if he came this far just to watch the Reapers win again? 

Soft footsteps on the stairs catch his attention. In his peripheral vision he sees Shepard descending to enter the kitchen, then hears water running from the faucet. He turns toward her as she walks past with a glass in her hand, making his presence obvious. Her whole body still jerks in surprise when she notices him. "Oh! I didn't see you there." 

_Humans,_ Javik thinks, _deficient as always in situational awareness,_ but he decides now isn't the time to point it out. "I know," he says instead. 

It isn't how a human would reply, and at one time Shepard might have said as much. By now she doesn't bother. "I thought everyone else had gone to bed." 

"I require very little sleep and I am not yet ready to begin it. What is your excuse?" 

She holds up her glass. "Drinking a liter of water before bed is the only hangover cure that's ever actually worked for me." 

"Are there no sources of water upstairs?" 

"Grunt's in my bathroom _wasted._ Muttering about how he's sad hanar can't wear sweaters. I figured it was best not to get involved." Her shoulders sag and a wry smile twists her lips. "And I guess I'm not tired yet either. Care if I join you?" 

"If you wish." Javik didn't expect the request, but he finds it surprisingly appealing. He indicates the cushion next to him, and Shepard sits down on it, heavily and with a drawn-out sigh. 

"Cheers," she says, raising her glass and drinking deeply. He doesn't respond. He'd be content to simply sit in silence, but like most primitives, she cannot bear to go very long without hearing the sound of her own voice. "Is something bothering you?" 

The question is so unexpected, so inexplicable, that he can't help laughing. "No. Why would you think so?" 

Many of the other crew members would likely take offense at his bluntness. Shepard never does. "Humans, at least, would often interpret someone sitting alone in the dark after a party as a person who is troubled by something." 

It's still far easier for him to be cynical than to be honest. "Primitives certainly like to project their emotions onto others. Which makes me think _you_ are the one feeling bothered, Commander." 

"Fair," she says, shaking her head. "I guess I do have a lot on my mind." 

Just a few months ago Javik would have immediately told her he didn't care and never considered the matter again. He's mildly surprised to find that he _does_ care now, at least a little. The challenges Shepard has faced would have broken many Protheans he's known - and he's only been awake from stasis long enough to witness a fraction of what she has survived. He has a strong suspicion of what her current concern may be. "About the Crucible." 

Shepard nods. "I'm told the _Normandy_ can leave dry dock whenever we want to come aboard. When we do, we're out of excuses. We go after the Catalyst, ready or not." 

"Do you believe we can succeed?" 

They both understand what he's asking. Around their allies, she has no choice but to make inspiring speeches and to project the image of assured victory, regardless of how grim things may appear. But Javik has never expected anything from her other than brutal honesty. Here, in the dark, with everyone else fast asleep, she is free to be as truthful with him as she wants to be. So it doesn't alarm him when she spreads her hands helplessly and says, "I don't know." 

"Nor do I. But I have never met anyone with a better chance of defeating the Reapers than you. In this cycle or mine, there is no one I would rather follow." 

Shepard stares at him for longer than anyone with only two eyes has any right to. _Does she know,_ he wonders, _what eye contact so direct and sustained used to suggest in my cycle?_ "You really believe that," she finally says. 

"I never say things I do not mean." 

"I think I've said this before, but you are _not_ what I expected from the Protheans." 

"And what were you expecting?" 

"Not you," she says, throwing her hands up in frustration. "I know, not helpful. I figured you wouldn't annoy me as much as you do. And that you wouldn't be nearly so attractive." 

Judging by the swiftness with which Shepard presses her mouth tightly shut and drops her gaze to her lap, she wasn't planning on letting the last words slip. Now that they've been spoken, Javik finds he can't let them pass by unremarked. " _Now_ who is saying things they do not mean?" 

"Javik, look, just...let it go. I shouldn't have brought it up. Especially after what you told Vega after I took you to the casino. No dating primitives, right?" 

He's quiet for a long time, considering. Shepard's admission isn't nearly as unexpected as she might believe. The Protheans of his cycle, too, took advantage of the lull before battle to seek solace in each other, to say the things to each other that they would regret taking to the grave unspoken. He has grown to respect Shepard in spite of himself. It flatters him to think she would turn to him for comfort - especially when he considers the many ways in which he has been less than comforting. The rest of the _Normandy_ 's crew view him as haughty and rude, perhaps with good reason. She sees something else in him, though he's never been sure what it is, or how she found it, or why. 

"Even in my cycle," he says at last, "not dating primitives was more of a guideline than a law." 

She raises an eyebrow and lifts her head in renewed curiosity. "I see. Well, Javik...for tonight, at least, dating isn't what I had in mind." 

"Then what do you want?" 

Shepard is back to studying him intently, leaning forward with her chin tilted upward and her eyes half-lidded. He isn't sure how she expects him to react. "Do Protheans kiss?" she asks. 

Javik suppresses a shudder, poorly. "No. We have other methods of intimacy." 

"Would you like to go upstairs and show them to me?" 

_At least she understands that if this is going to work, she will need to speak explicitly._ "Yes." 

He follows her up to the bedroom, intrigued by the slow and deliberate roll of her hips as she slowly climbs the steps. Although he's walked behind her through a hundred battlefields, he's never seen her move this way before. It's nothing like the way a Prothean woman would have tried to seduce him, but his body responds just the way he would to one of them and there are no more Prothean women anyway. She glances over her shoulder and smirks as she catches him watching her. "You like that?" 

In response, he dilates and contracts his pupils in a pattern so lascivious he's a little shocked by his own forwardness. She looks more puzzled than aroused, however, so he gives up. 

Upstairs, Shepard closes the door to the bedroom to shut them in, and the door to the bathroom to keep the now-unconscious Grunt out. She doesn't bother switching on the lights, an oversight Javik quickly rectifies. "Oh," she says, turning to face him. "You like to watch." One hand goes to the collar of her jacket and begins to undo the fasteners there, exposing a strip of bare skin just below her neck. 

"Don't," he says quickly, trying not to let on how revolted he is. 

She stops. "So...you want the lights on, but you don't want to see me naked?" 

"We will keep our clothes on," he says, feeling suddenly protective toward his armor. "I won't touch you, either." 

"Okay," she says, sounding perplexed. "Just so we're clear, you _did_ want to have sex with me, right?" 

"Yes. Very much." He thinks he understands where their communication failed now. _Leave it to primitives to be so limited in their thinking._ "My people only mate in the way you are thinking of when they intend to procreate. I don't believe it is your intent to breed with me." 

"No. Definitely not. No offense." 

"None taken." 

"Well, tell me about these other methods of intimacy, then." 

Protheans would likely share memories, but for many reasons that won't work with her. Just one alternative remains. Javik reaches for her with a gentle biotic push, touching one of the areas he's pretty sure is a human erogenous zone. She makes a noise half "oh" of realization, half "hmm" of pleased interest, and he knows he's chosen well. "I've never used biotics for this before." 

"I have never pleasured a human before. It will be a new experience for both of us." 

She licks her lips. "Can we lie down?" 

"If you wish." 

Her bed is too short for him, and the mattress much softer than he prefers. Still, there's something both soothing and stimulating about proximity to her. Experimentally, he runs a ripple of biotic energy along her body, from her cheek and down her flank and all along her legs to the ankle. She exhales, long and slow, and arches into the sensation. At the place where she uncovered herself he can see her pulse hammering in the soft pink hollow of her throat. It's animal, _primitive,_ and by all rights it should repulse him but it doesn't. 

Javik pushes against Shepard's neck, and she coughs. "Not there," she says hoarsely, and he withdraws. Instead he shifts the pressure to her curving chest. It's strange to him that a sentient species feeds their young from mounds of flesh, and stranger still that they derive sexual satisfaction from the same organs. But then she rewards him with a high keening noise that goes directly to his groin and he thinks, _Perhaps I could do with a little more strangeness._

He eases off to get her attention. He can't be selfless, not tonight. "Commander," he says, and he hears how his own voice has gone tight with wanting her. "I need you to..." 

"Okay," she says before he can finish the sentence. She closes her eyes to concentrate. The resulting biotic push strikes him in his abdomen and sends him tumbling over the edge of the bed. As he picks himself up off the floor, she peers down at him in concern. Her distress is so disproportionate to the situation that he bursts out laughing, which starts her laughing too. "Oops. You can tell I mostly use biotics in combat." 

Javik has seen her vanguard's charge in action often enough to be grateful he didn't end up on the receiving end of it tonight. "How shamefully limited your people are," he says as he picks himself up. "Your teachers failed you." 

"Maybe when this is over, I'll propose a new elective at the academy." Shepard tilts her head toward him, then stops herself. "Sorry. I would have kissed a human just now." 

Despite what he told her before, he's curious. "I changed my mind. I want you to." 

When they touch, his instinct is to pass memories to her. Suppressing it takes much of his focus away from the physical reality of her mouth pressed against his. To him, it is neither particularly unpleasant nor particularly appealing, but she seems to have enjoyed it so he doesn't regret having allowed it. "Don't worry," she says when she pulls away. "I won't let the others know you can actually be kind when you want to be." 

"If you value kindness, stop talking and pleasure me." 

"Message received," she says with her eyebrows raised. 

This time, Shepard can better moderate the force of her biotics. Sensation sweeps across the top of Javik's head, down the back of his neck, across his shoulders. "Not like that," he says, unable to keep the frustration from his voice. 

"Then show me." 

Javik lifts one finger to his own throat and begins to trace the reddish folds of flesh there. It feels obscene to stimulate himself openly in front of a primitive, but the thought of not doing it is worse. He moves his hand downward, sketching out the places beneath his armor that most crave her attention, ending up between his legs. In this, too, they are not so different. 

Shepard is a fast learner. Her biotics unerringly seek out the most sensitive parts of him, stroking and caressing, tugging and teasing. Surely she understands now why he told her to keep her clothing on; when one can disregard every barrier to engulf and to penetrate at will, nudity is unnecessary. A low growl escapes him. He's too aroused to feel ashamed. 

Now Javik is neglecting her. It won't stand. He wraps her in biotic energy from her chest to her knees, allowing himself to touch every part of her and finally to slip inside her. She cries out softly. Her hips roll back and forth, violently enough to shake the mattress beneath them. The primal power of her abandon fills him with unexpected pride. It's not like a Prothean to be so vocal or demonstrative - _but she's not a Prothean and she doesn't have to be,_ he thinks with something like relief. 

Her eyelids have dropped shut, but he wants them open. He wants to look her in the eye like he would one of his own kind, to watch her pupils shift and dance as her climax arrives. He doesn't even know if that's a part of human sexual behavior, but he wants it all the same. "Open your eyes," he says, then tries to soften the command with, "Please, Commander." With obvious effort she complies, fixing him with a gaze gone soft and hazy with lust. He feels his own eyes jitter and cross uncontrollably, and wonders if she understands what it means. 

Indeed, his own pleasure is already reaching its peak, but given his restraint it's possible she may not recognize it. "I am going to come," he informs her, letting the desperation show in his voice. Her response is three sharp final thrusts of her pelvis against nothing and a loud long moan that echoes off the walls of the room. 

As her movements begin to slow, the knowledge of what he's done to her is enough to send him over the edge. His orgasm overwhelms him like a wave of soldiers pouring through a newly opened gap in the enemy's lines, going on and on, the inevitable outcome of so many years of stasis and pent-up desire. He lets out several ecstatic groans and tells himself they're only for her benefit. Really, he couldn't have held them back if he tried. 

Now Shepard can't keep her eyes from closing. She rolls onto her back, all her earlier tension vanished. "That was amazing," she says, sounding weary and satisfied. Moments later he can tell by her deep, even breathing that she's already asleep. 

Javik shuts the lights off with a desultory biotic push and stares up at the ceiling through the sudden dark. There is no reason for him to remain here in Shepard's bed, and many reasons for him to leave it. Yet he can't bring himself to move. Exhaustion overtakes him more rapidly than he expects. When he sleeps, for once, it is dreamless. 

He wakes the next morning to the mattress shifting as Shepard begins to stir. Were it not for her presence, he could almost believe the events of the night before to have been an unexpectedly pleasant dream. He turns his head to see her sitting on the edge of the bed in a posture that strongly suggests her hangover cure has failed her. "It turns out there is one thing primitives are good at," he drawls, hoping she'll take it as the joke he intends it to be. 

She doesn't look back as she stands up. "Not a word," she warns him, but he hears no regret behind the words. No matter what awaits them on the _Normandy_ and beyond, last night they gave each other comfort and peace. Nothing can ever make Javik apologize for that, and he suspects Shepard feels the same. History won't remember this part of their story, and it shouldn't. All that matters is that for one brief moment, history didn't have to matter at all. 


End file.
